


Age of Overlords

by Lord_Kragan



Category: Age of Sigmar, Overlord - Maruyama Kugane & Related Fandoms, Warhammer - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, age of sigmar - Freeform, nagash is a dick, softer Overlord
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:55:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8586451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_Kragan/pseuds/Lord_Kragan
Summary: The Tomb of Nazarick's arrival to the New World triggers and reactivates connections long extinguished as other worlds discover this place. The inhabitants aren't alone now, nor are they at the pinacle. This, though, is the beginning of a new era. This is the Age of Overlords.





	

**Note to understand AoS (optional but recommended)**

**To those uninitiated to the rich (and for the rich, considering how bloody expensive it is) world of Age of Sigmar/Warhammer. Long ago there was a great war: the End Times where the forces of Chaos fought the forces of… whomever didn't want to be utterly annhilated and skullfucked into oblivion, to be honest. Considering the game is called now Age of Sigmar, I'll let you take a guess/google search about the outcome.**

**Long story short: the world went kaboom and from it's ashes a new one emerged a la Ragnarok.**

**Prior to that a group of elves and humans fled to find yet another new world the surviving gods managed to make. It's heavily implied they didn't make it. Or is it? Because according to my head-canon that new world they fled to is… well the New World.**

**Faced with the loss of their original source of magic they had to resort to the native style and that's weakened them. Meanwhile the "realms" that emerged from the Old World have gone and run rampant with this magic energy (winds, as they call it) and in turn it strengthened their people.**

**Now Ainz Ooal Gown has appeared in the New World and this event is of such a magnitude that the New World, previously isolated from the 9 Realms, is now in contact with them.**

**Chapter 1. Lords of death.**

The realm of Shyish, land of the dead, was a barren wasteland of gray land and green "water". At its heart lay a massive citadel of black marble and bone, of black magic and blood-fueled witchcraft. There went all the souls of everyone who died and weren't under the dark protection of the Chaos Gods, or caught the fancy of the God-King Sigmar. The halls of Nagash were an unnerving place, where silence dominated everything and yet it seemed as if a legion of eyes were following you.

At the core of the citadel was a gargantuan chamber, its walls filled with ancient symbols of arcane knowledge and rituals. They were older than the palace, older than Shyish itself, a remnant of the World that Was, like its only inhabitant and owner, Nagash, the Lord of Undeath.

The arch-lich that claimed lordship of the Wind that embodied death was a massive skeleton. As in, roughly eight meters in height at the very of the least. His pale white skin contrasted starkly with the extremely ornate lilac and bone-bleached plates of Morikhane, the black armor.

Fine robes of purple silk and cloth of gold covered part of his legs and forearms, though quite a few bits of his decayed body were exposed to the elements.

His eyes were cool embers barely shining and flickering from time to time. Up until that very same moment.

A massive surge of energy, of a nature he had never seen before came into existence. It was a strangely warm and fuzzy feeling, which made Nagash dislike it instantly. More important, it was an extremely powerful source. Of a magnitude almost on par to what the Realms on their own were capable of.

His eyes burnt now with a fiery energy, a curiosity fueled by distrust and paranoia.

Did that mean a new land had been birthed? Had some of the cinders of the World that Was finally cooled and crystallized into something new? Whatever it was, to Nagash it meant it was an incognita. Was this event something good, a bad portent perhaps?

He needed to know. Liabilities at this stage of the war, when he was so close to delivering the blow that would kick out the invaders of Chaos from his domain, weren't welcome. With a swift move, he rose and made himself float in the air, always accompanied by his nine books about the art of necromancy.  
"Arkhan," said the Supreme Lord of Death in a reverberating voice that thundered across the whole massive room. "Come here."

Out of thin air yet another lich materialized: Arkhan the Black, Mortarch of Sacrament. This one, though, was about the size of a human at close to a meter eighty. Still, he had the penchant for ornate lilac and bone-bleached clothes and armour that his master wore. As well as his usage of a giant hat. Nagash's headgear had been likened once by a strange (and unfortunate) stranger as "the fucking pope's in a bath of bone and purple" and branded as ridiculous. In what position Arkhan's hat would end up wasn't a certainty but for sure it couldn't be better than Nagash's considering it was almost thrice the size of Arkhan's head (mainly the girth) and had about the same colour scheme. He couldn't be better than his overlord, could he?

Nagash weakly shook his head. That was about the last thing he ought to be thinking or talking about. He had more important business at hand.

"Arkhan, you've noticed it haven't you," the Mortarch, now kneeling, nodded in affirmation. "I want you to find what this was. It emanated too much power for me to dismiss it idly."

He left unspoken the following phrases: and you're the only one I can depend upon. Or else I'll end up with yet another End Times. That's what I get for putting my trust on vampires too much.

Right now, a strong hand was needed to control the order of battle, a necessary requirement for a mission like this. That meant virtually anyone barring Nagash himself, Arkhan and Krell could be trusted to take care of it. Considering that Krell's ability portfolio consisted of fifty pages on the ways he'd be able to murder things and one about him being a wonderful chef… it didn't take too much to figure out he was anything but qualified for a task more complex than cleaving chaos warriors, unless it was to make filet mignon, then he was more than qualified. Nagash was out of question, he needed to control his minions.

Arkhan bowed graciously as he spoke in a very soft and level voice.

"My master, your will shall be done, I'll find this source, identify its nature and see it either swears compliance to your exalted cause or is destroyed for your glory!"

At that very same moment, Ainz Ooal Gown abandoned Nazarick as he prepared himself to embrace the good old life of an adventure. There were many more things to learn and observe about this New World. But truth be told, the most important factor for Ainz was that he, maybe, would be able to find his friends.

A whole world of opportunities awaited him and he'd let nothing get in the way and ruin it.

In a matter of hours Arkhan had gathered the support of Lord Harkon Valendris and Konrad Lahrian, two very powerful vampires under Neferata's service. The two vampires wore black and red plate armour with a bat's wing motif all over the place. Harkon wielded a lance and sword, which would work wonders with his zombie dragon. Meanwhile, Konrad was more of a necromancer, wielding a magic staff and a Crimson Chalice to heal their wounds. Aside from that, they were pretty similar: both had unnaturally pale skin, black hair, oversized fangs, patrician faces and red eyes. Both were pretty petty and cruel too.

Following them were a cavalcade of sixty blood knights, vampires sworn to the sword and who could sate their thirst with blood addled with the adrenaline of battle and fighting, as well as a cohort of thirty morghasts. Arkhan eyed silently the "soldiers". Long ago, back during the infancy of the Old World, the morghasts had been the blade of the gods of Nekhekara, Nagash and Arkhan's homeland. Once, these avian warriors had golden armor and copper-like feathers that made them gleam like the sun as they swept proudly across the skies. Now they were reduced to bones and dull lilac armor, their weapons now accursed blades, their spirits (or what remained of them) long ago crushed to their new Overlord's will. The memories of that day brought nostalgia into Arkhan's mind.

With a sweep of his arm, he pointed eastwards.

"Duty calls, we cannot keep him waiting."

And with that his mount, Razarak began flying. Again, the beast had once served Nekhekaran gods but this sack of bones and spectral skulls was but one of many more mindless minions.

Harkon's dragon, carrying both vampires, followed suit and went on towards the same direction as Arkhan but quite farther away, in order to better see the expanse of terrain. The source was eastwards of Nagash's palace so he had the thirty morghasts stretched to the point where they almost couldn't see each other and thus their flights could cover more ground.

The skeletal avians and the the undead beasts kept flying for days, on occasion descending so they could gather information with the populace about any strange events and so that the vampires could grab a bite.

On the fourth day of travel, they found a strange door. It wasn't a realmgate, one of the many links that connected the many worlds. Well, not quite as ornate a realmgate: whereas any realmgate Arkhan had seen in his millennia of life had a very baroque and overdesigned style, this one had a very sober, almost naked, decoration. Still, he had little time to ponder about the architecture of the emplacement as something caught his eye. Next to the gate, behind it to be precise, he saw piles of rubble organized seemingly at random. Arkhan quickly pinpointed their reason of being, why they were there.

A Flesh Eater Court.

When the forces of Chaos won the war a half millennia ago, their soldiers ran rampant and wreaked havoc upon the realms. Those outside the very few safe havens that managed to survive the onslaught had three choices: join Chaos, die (which usually happened after the first choice, as they weren't deemed worthy) or resort to cannibalism and embrace the insanity of the ghouls. Their madness was literally contagious and their main focus was eating and mauling everything that didn't embrace their ways. To them those piles of rubble were marble spires and the monstrous wrecks that commanded them were the aberrations that were the varghulfs. Zombie dragons and the like were noble warriors and steeds to their decayed and rotting eyes.

Arkhan was positive he could mop up the place, but he didn't want to waste energies. For that reason and because they could prove useful, if Arkhan played his cards right. He'd need to go mad, though.

King Dharpan the eighty-second sat on his throne, wearing an ermine cape and garments of fine crimson silk and golden trim. Surrounding him where the valiant nobles and knights of the realm, their shiny plate armour combining into a beacon of light in this dark age.

He passed court on his subjects, delivering fair justice to the subjects: a couple of men discussed about the inheritance of their father, a cow. Another group of two men discussed about who should marry a fair maiden. A third man complained about a noble failing to uphold his sacred duty and to be a little more than a tyrant, earning the wrathful punishment at the hands of Lord Brandon the Bold.

The same as usual, until a group of strangers appeared. Virtually all of them wore finely crafted armor and weapons but the leader of the party, a man of copper skin, shaven hair and priestly outfit, seemed a bit different. He bowed slightly and presented his party as a Sage and their escort.

"My lord, the most exalted Nagash, has heard many wonders about your people, and their glorious deeds of arms. And thus, he has been mesmerized (and worried) as to why such proud warriors conform themselves to guard such a seemingly unremarkable place. He worries something dire may befell the realm and asks to be illuminated by your wisdom, and be helped by the strength of your arms and soldiers should the truth result in some sort of incoming harm."

Dharpan nodded and uttered the traditional courtesies before explaining.

"My outriders found this place half a moon ago and we decided to send someone to explore. They were fine warriors, a good crop of newly trained warriors backed by the veteran Ser Guy le Valiant. Since then we've been waiting and thus we know what you, my dear friend, do: nothing at all. Certainly this place is ominous and thus we cannot let the realm be undefended of this threat so we sent more outriders to the capital while we mounted a defensive perimeter to defend the helpless from any impending threat."

The priest nodded and made a gentle smile.

"Do not worry, my valiant lord, your plea for succor has been heard and our most magnanimous Nagash has ordered me and these valiant warriors and lords to investigate the matter. Soon your presence won't be needed, once we return and assert the nature of what lies on the other side."

The king nodded graciously and thanked them.

"Give the gates guardsmen this piece of clothing with my royal sigil engraved. It will say to them that you're my emissaries and thus give you free-passage. May our great lord Nagash be with you."

They hurried away from that circus freak, all while carrying the intestine the ghoul king had given them, leaving just in time to avoid seeing how two ghouls devoured a screeching hag while they ripped her apart, though not soon enough as to not see a group of four ghouls devour a fat man or a giant Varghulf, a vampire mutated into a giant bat, beat and devour a crypt horror over a regular ghoul.

Why they'd give preference to what was cannon fodder against a jacked up ghoul on many,many, steroids was beyond Arkhan's comprehension. Although he comprehended why that ghoul party they slaughtered two days ago was heading to the capital.

Still, they got passage and that's what they had been counting on.

Turning around to see his companions, both vampires nodded, to which Arkhan could but shrug. Only the gods knew what lay ahead, and they had died long ago.

With a slow but sure step, he crossed the gate in order to find… a graveyard?

Hundreds, if not thousands, of graves marred the dark landscape. This looked too much like the realm of Shyish but he didn't recognize the layout, and he had explored the lands of Shyish since their very birth.

A rustle made Arkhan turn around quickly. Another vampire here? Weren't they supposed to have sent ghouls? As far as the Mortarch knew, their description was: hunched, emaciated, naked and filthy, not curvaceous, with jet-black hair, and well dressed.

And how come this vampire hadn't either spoken to Neferata or Mannfred? Sure Mannfred was a turd, but Neferata was a very shrewd woman that greatly rewarded information and this place seemed to be a juicy sword of news.

This made little sense so he did the most logical thing he could.

"My fair maiden," he began in his usual soft and calm voice. "Would you kindly answer a few questions of my own?"

Hurrying, Shalltear Bloodfallen made her way to the place the intruders were reported to be present. She was in a very bad mood, her lips closed tightly and her eyes marked by a silvery frown.

How in blazes could a giant door, "popping out of nowhere", have escaped her watch? And it would have been so if it hadn't been for the fact that the invading force of a hundred warriors had decided to be polite and inform them that they were entering the neighbourhood.

Albedo would love to hear it unless she cleaned the mess up immediately.

Let's see the plan: I make an act of politeness, speak a bit with them to figure out whether or not they are worth keeping alive or not. As most likely they won't, I'll just slaughter them and destroy that gate, thus calling it a day and no one would know it and inform Lord Ainz.

That sounded like a very good plan, especially considering she was being followed by a three thousand-man force of vampires (a small minority not reaching a number more than one hundred), zombies (around three hundred) and cockroaches (the rest). The average level there was twenty seven or something like that, and reports were that the strongest enemy was around that level cap. All in all, there was a snowball's chance in hell they'd be alive from the confrontation, thought Shalltear smugly.

They waded through the gravestones until they found the intruder. Shalltear winced in surprise upon seeing a lich clad in very elaborate clothes. He was a looker with that form-fitting skeleton and armour, and the lilac clothes fit him very nicely, with so little in the way of fat to ruin the look.

He was strange, though. There was something off about him, and the strange bird skeletons and vampires that followed him.

Shalltear shrugged slightly and chalked this off as some local undead that were surprised by the tomb's sudden appearance.

The lich dismounted from his… whatever the animal that those skeletons and skulls had belonged to. He approached Shalltear and bowed to kiss her hand with his teeth. For a second his prosthetic goatee (quite pronounced and made of gold and yet more lilac) grazed her skin, which made her shiver ever so slightly.

"My lady, I'm very honored of being made your acquaintance, my name is Arkhan, proud servant and Mortarch of our one and only master, Nagash the Supreme Lord of Death. He has heard of this strange land of yours, and indeed it is, as I've never seen it ever before in my millenia-long lifespan! And he wishes to know more about your people."

Shalltear, taken aback a bit by the politeness and finesse of the lich, winced a bit as his eyes widened slightly. She quickly recovered and pondered about this "Supreme Lord of Death." The title alone was almost an attack towards the Supreme Beings, especially Lord Ainz who himself ought to be the Lord of Death. She was positive her master was the better of the two.

"Oh my, is it?" Shalltear made a light chuckle as she continued in a haughty tone. "We're glad to have caught the fancy of your lord, though he'd do well to come and see the wonders of Nazarick!"

This "Arkhan" returned the chuckle as he brought his left hand to his chest and tapped it lightly.

"You're right my lady, he'd do well to visit this Nazarick. Though he's busy now with matters of war. I'm sure, though, that he'd be very glad to see his wondrous new vassals' domains once the hostilities conclude."

Okay, that made Shalltear's left eye twitch a bit.

"I beg your pardon, my dear Arkhan?" The more Shalltear thought about it, the more violent the twitch seemed to be. " 'His' vassals?"

"Of course! As Overlord of all undead, it is his right and duty to rule over us all!" Said the lich jovially . "It is also our duty to delight him with our best deeds, and I'm pretty sure he'll be greatly pleased with your people's battle prowess in the upcoming battles, maybe he'll give you a privileged place in his courts if you do a remark-"

Shalltear snapped quickly, her response cutting short Arkhan's.

"The people of Nazarick serve only the Supreme Being," said Shalltear as her words tinged with anger alongside her eyes. "Whose name is Ainz Ooal Gown, not Nagash. We won't bow to anything inferior to the Supreme Beings."

She finished her words with a guttural growl and a baring of her fangs as she prepared the incantation to make her lance and plate appear.

Arkhan cocked his head and said the words that metaphorically broke the camel's back.

"Those are some brash words my lady, and they imply a great danger as they can invoke the wrath of my master," his words seemed to have genuine concern, they sounded totally sincere and so were the following ones. "Are you sure you'd like to defer to your parents in this judgement? After all it's something important that should be left in the responsible hands of adults."

Okay, screw restraint, screw control and screw keeping forms. That bastard needed to die. NOW.

She roared as the plate and lance she usually wore in battle materialized. She directed her strike at the lich's head, ready for the kill.

All of a sudden the world turned upside down. The lich grabbed her and turned her around like a ragdoll. She went from seeing his face to seeing the ceiling and shortly thereafter seeing the ground, to end up kissing said ground in a violent and painful clash.  
She turned to see the lich unsheath his weapons as his minions ran to fight off her own, the dragon and beast taking flight to fight, and one of the invading vampires starting to raise a horde of zombies of its own.

The lich closed in but she made a powerful kick, connecting with the pelvis, and the lich was sent flying a few dozen meters, his body flailing around like a ragdoll until it hit the ground. He rose without any apparent damage.

He simply said, "Well, I guess it was a bit impolite and demeaning on my side, for what little worth it may be, you have my most sincere apologies," excused Arkhan as he materialized a staff that began glowing with a black and eerie light. "It was arrogant from my part to suppose you were a child. You're clearly an adult and thus you, without any strings or influence, have signed your death warrant. May Nagash be merciful of your soul when I present it for judgement."

"You like to talk big words from some upstart outsider, lich. Your tour of the Tomb of Nazarick ends here. We won't bow to your master and you will be crushed for trying to do so."

Both undead lurched onwards and began their clash.

The Battle of Nazarick had begun.

**Nagash's distrust of vampires is very well earned. Remember the end of the world I mentioned? All because a vampire fucked up. Also he was sorely beaten once, again due to vampires fucking up. All in all they don't deliver well their job, but they have their uses.**


End file.
